


A Corresponding Price

by enocchis



Series: Intertwining of Red Strings [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Country relations references, Historical References, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-22 15:23:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4840544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enocchis/pseuds/enocchis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When new circumstances had relocated Toris to Feliks’s home to recuperate, the once close friends (or former sweethearts) might have to adjust with each other’s presence once more. As they lived alongside with their new attitudes, they would come to comprehend that reconciliation could be preferable to senseless avoidance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Keeping his scarf wrapped securely around his neck, Feliks exhaled and it created a translucent cloud of air, reflecting the cold temperature that had rained on his country. He checked his watch and decided that he should make haste. For a rather self-centered person, Feliks did not tolerate tardiness, especially if caused by himself. Perhaps one might even argue that his egoistical ways had mellowed over the periods of hardships.

Stepping into the café, the Pole glanced across the room and spotted a familiar blonde. He walked over and plopped onto his seat, setting his wallet on the table.

"Poland! Good afternoon and it's great to see you again, pal!"

"Likewise, America," Feliks responded with a brief hearty wave himself.

Alfred and Feliks weren't the closest of companions but the former had aided him through times and their shared time together had made Feliks acquainted with his presence. Normally, Feliks would have attempted to find an alternative rather to meet with a stranger or a distant person. It was no longer simply shyness that prompted the behaviour but wariness too.

After ordering an iced coffee for himself, Feliks folded his arms atop the table and stared at Alfred, waiting for him to begin their topic. It was Alfred who proposed this meeting of theirs.

"So, how's it going?"

"It's been great. The economy has been booming and we're continuing to promote the establishment of private firms. The economy is going free now."

"Geez, I was asking about you, not your reports."

Feliks raised a brow in surprise. That was not what Alfred was here for? He assumed that the American organised a meeting so that he could get a scope on his developments since they had recently begun stronger bilateral ties and more trades.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he decided that he still hadn't fully recuperated from the war or that his mind was still obstinate in maintaining certain changes in him. Overcoming betrayal had come with a price. Feliks had found himself to be less willing to trust others and only seemed so on the surface. Amiability? Such a term seemed distant in his mind now that he was exposed to the utter betrayal shown by his allies. Alfred wasn't involved but could Feliks be blamed for adopting his new attitude towards anyone?

He waved his hand in a casual apologetic manner.

"I thought you were here for that. As for me, uh, I guess I've been doing fine too?"

What else could he say? It had been clear as day that Feliks was anything but fine. A lie would do him good in avoiding divulging his terrifying nightmares and daylight blackouts to an acquaintance.

"Not everyone is hard on business. You know me. Easy going and just really into the fun stuff. I have way too much hard situations on my hand to talk about it on my day off."

"I've watched the news." Feliks sipped on his iced coffee from a straw immediately after it was served on his table. It was a good distraction from his discomfort. "Sounds like things are becoming more hectic on your side."

"Sure is. We're getting all the help we can. Oh, thanks for your assistance with  _Operation Simoom_. Our agents and the foreigners wouldn't have made it out there without you."

It felt pleasant to have his efforts appreciated for once, Feliks decided. Therefore, he could respond with a small smile and a quick tilt of his head. "No problem."

There, Alfred could gradually discern the changes Feliks underwent. He was no longer the oblivious man he had heard Arthur talked of. There was an aura of forced tranquillity surrounding the Pole and he seemed neither the forthright and boisterous nation Toris had mentioned either. It could be attributed to Feliks's reserved nature as he also recalled his current guest saying how Feliks often avoided speaking to strangers because he was shy.

Yet it was also a fact that Feliks had matured over time. His fundamental personality stayed but his attitude had been affected tremendously. While he was still terribly blunt in his speech, he had significantly avoided topics of his own suffering. Feliks still complained excessively but he hardly mentioned of what had truly hurt him.

The obscure knowledge of the man before him made Alfred wonder if it was appropriate to bring out his request, which was the true reason for his visit. Alfred did, however, as he was not a man who became too wary over such complications.

"By the way, I need you to do another thing for me."

Still sipping from his straw despite his growing comfort for Alfred, Feliks leaned his cheek against his knuckles. "Sure. What is it?"

"Could you let Toris stay at your place for a while?"

"Oh, you mean let Lietuva stay at my place— _Wait what_?!"

Feliks had really tried not to choke on his drink.

Of all requests, Alfred just had to deploy one that would render him speechless. Feliks knew that Alfred was not as oblivious as certain others pegged him to be. His recent fallout with Toris was as conspicuous as Ivan in a cramped room. In fact, the two once close friends had completely severed any bilateral establishments between their countries and hadn't spoken for years.

Considering Feliks's still ongoing liking for Toris, the vicious time apart had made him numb towards any notion of speaking to him again. It would be incorrect to say that Feliks had come to abhor or forget about Toris but it was simply so that the Lithuanian didn't participate in a majority of his thoughts anymore. Feliks had more productive matters that he must tend to.

Now, Alfred's request had seemed as though he had opened the Pandora box. What had been kept at bay were beginning to peek from its shadows and Feliks wasn't sure he appreciated the reminder of how their passive belligerent issue existed.

Alfred must have been mad to propose this absurd idea!

"Alfred," Feliks started off slowly and carefully. "I think you, of all people, should know that we have… kind of a difficult situation between us. We wouldn't even speak to each other, much less  _live together and playing house_."

"Toris needs to return to handling his economy at a closer distance now that it is improving and he's not ready to be, you know, living so near to Russia. At least I know that he'd definitely be safe with you."

"Right. I think he still have funny ideas about me wanting to seize Vilnius."

Then again, Toris couldn't be blamed for _that_.

"But you don't," Alfred argued. "You gotta do me this favour, pal. I know that I am threading on a thin line here but I don't have any other alternatives. Estonia and Latvia are still in the midst of recuperating and it'd be worse if I made Toris go to someone he doesn't even know."

"I think that it would still be a better choice than sticking him with someone he completely doesn't trust and vice versa."

Was it a lie? Feliks thought briefly. Had he became untrusting towards Toris?

"I know that it's hard and unfair to stick the both of you together after all of that happened. I wouldn't have asked you for permission if Toris was violently against it either."

Surprise reflected in his expression at that statement. Toris wasn't against it? Then again, Toris might have been too polite to refuse any attempts that Alfred produced to assist his friend. Feliks could imagine that he would have difficulties in coming to term with Alfred's suggestion but perhaps it was the centuries' worth of tolerance that might have convinced Toris that a few short years wouldn't do much harm. Besides, they were merely not talking rather than brawling against each other.

His digits came to massage the growing migraine on his forehead. It was a simple request and Feliks recalled that his leaders strongly advised him to attempt assisting Alfred in any way he could, considering that they desired for America to be one of their biggest trading partners.

"What exactly did he say?" Feliks asked.

"He said he is alright with it as long as you're cool," Alfred responded eagerly and honestly.

Blowing a restrained air past his lips, Feliks relaxed his shoulders and fixed a thoughtful gaze on Alfred. Truly, it was one of the most absurd – or perhaps not 'most' – request he had received. He was never comfortable in dealing with post arguments with a distant friend. Heaps of awkwardness were bound to emerge from this new arrangement, he could just sense it.

"Fine. I'll do it," Feliks finally replied although there was a drip of reluctance in his tone.

"Really?!"

Feliks flinched and leaned back in shock at the loud outburst of joy from Alfred. His eyes were wide at the sheer luminance emitting from the man and discomfort was piling on him as more patrons were turning their attention towards them. Feliks was typically shameless when he was doing his own act but to have someone else putting the both of them in the limelight was nothing that he was accustomed to.

"Geez, I said yes! Must you be so loud? You're acting as though I'm giving you my entire property!"

"You're the best, dude! I knew I could count on you!"

Before Feliks could react, Alfred had rounded the table and pulled the Pole into a tight brotherly embrace. Alfred didn't notice him flinch, which it was due to Feliks becoming truly reluctant to participate in any physical contact with anyone ever since the most vigorous storm passed. All attempts to shove Alfred away was proven futile when he was outmatched by the absurd strength.

Hence, all Feliks was left with were thoughts of how his days would come to a gradual downfall.

* * *

Notes: Take note that I use countries' human names in narration when I am referring to their personifications because it's more comfortable for me that way. Some people do tend to forget that I am writing about characters, not countries and their people. In dialogue, characters who are relatively close will use each others' human names and their country name if they are distant or in a formal setting. Feliks won't be calling Lithuania 'Liet' any time soon.

Prior to World War II, Poland had attempted to seize Vilnius after its request to reestablish the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth was declined. Because of Poland's growing apprehension towards a possible invasion, it attempted to gain as many land as it could so that it could fortify itself. Thus, the Polish-Lithuanian war was staged and after Poland seized control of Vilnius, Lithuania cut off all diplomatic ties with Poland afterwards.

There were actually upturns and downturns after the Cold War was concluded but in the present day, the two countries are beginning to seek for stronger ties.

Operation Somoom, as mentioned, was the name given to top secret Polish intelligence which was conducted in Iraq during 1990. It was deemed as a dangerous operation as it involved investing the movements of the Iraq army and recreate contact with the six American spies along with aiding them to move out of Iraq. They also assisted the foreigners, who were held hostage by Iraqis, to escape.


	2. Moving In

Weeks passed and Feliks still hadn't deduced how Alfred managed to rope him into this situation. Despite being armed with a calculator in hand, he was still fumbling with the numbers on his paperwork and he fully blamed Alfred for his diminishing attention span.

Fingers foraged his blonde hair in attempt to find salvation to his predicament. Who was he kidding? If years of praying didn't change England's and France's usefulness whereby the treaty was involved, it was a more laughable chance to have Alfred phoning him and changing his opinion. Feliks could be fighting with a glittering wand and on a cow, bulldozing his enemies and drinking fresh vodka at the end of the day. It was a tempting idea but his leaders didn't exactly approve of it when he submitted it in fine print.

In a moment, the telephone rang and Feliks was blessed at a new ray of hope. There was it. This would be when the world would prove him wrong and express its merciful benevolence. In a speed of a monkey to a banana, Feliks snatched the handset so hard that the cord almost snapped.

"Dude! I just wanted to call you that Toris is just ten minutes away from your place."

 _Joy_.

"I got it," Feliks responded, having his previously buoyant mood dashed into a pile of salt. Glancing at the window, he pressed his hand against his hip and attempted to discern any mess of brown. "Anything else I should know of?"

"Yes! You're a great pal and I'm going to gift you with a trip to the Mcdonalds factory!"

"Thanks," he said dryly.

After the short conversation was over, Feliks placed the handset back to its spot and willed himself out of his seat. If Toris was going to arrive in ten minutes, he had better utilize the time wisely by making some bacon for himself.

* * *

Meanwhile, Toris was in a hired cab and nearing Feliks's place. After Alfred's enthusiastic response, his mood had deflated and he became immersed in his woes. He dared not claimed that Feliks was the least favourable landlord but their current predicament might fix him as one. Unsurprisingly, the amount of hatred brewed from their past conflict had diminished over time. It might even attribute to the fact that Feliks was one of the strong supporter towards the Baltic way and his independence.

It was unknown to the extent of both of their changes but Toris wasn't confident that he would enjoy his time away from his home.

Argumentatively, Feliks did give him comfort before, mostly originating from when their romance was still alive. That man might have been selfish but his desires revolved around the fact that  _he_  was  _reluctant to do anything_  rather than attempting to  _force Toris_  to  _do something_. Feliks did not assert control but it was simply his forthcoming nature that made him the lead. Toris sensed that and it was why he could lecture Feliks whenever the necessity aroused without fear of being oppressed.

Although, the stress mainly came from the fact that Feliks rarely listen to  _him_.

If anyone asked Toris what good changes would he suggest for Feliks's attitude, the list could travel across the United States itself.

Yet while they were still living under the commonwealth, more than half of the lists didn't constitute Toris's daily problems. He might have his quibbles regarding Feliks's laziness but they were utterly joyously in love. Toris even found himself reminiscing over his time with his former spouse while he was pressed under Ivan's rule.

" _Liet! Hey, Liet," Feliks called over from the other side of the fence._

" _You're late, Po," Toris chastised but not without a forgiving look plastered, knowing that an apology wouldn't be conveyed orally. "Where were you? I was just about to head back and made dinner."_

_Displeased, Feliks placed his hands on his hips and Toris had to wonder what he had done to have bitten his lover this time._

" _Oh, were you now? I was all over the fields looking for this."_

_Fetching a small object out of his pocket, Feliks then revealed a small piece of rectangular wood wrapped in a cloth, which had a familiar embroidery pattern. The material concealed three quarter of the wooden base. At the sheer familiarity of item, Toris's hand flew to his own pockets and was shocked to find it empty. Had it dropped it while working in the fields?_

_Gulping, he glanced between Feliks's face and his handmade charm._

" _Were you late because of this?"_

" _Who the heck ask that when they lost something of theirs? You're supposed to ask for it back. Geez."_

_Pouting childishly, Feliks returned the charm without even waiting for the Lithuanian to request for his belonging. Toris accepted it gratefully, of course, and was remorseful over his own carelessness that had sent Feliks into searching relentlessly. How odd it was that Feliks would complain whenever Toris tried to persuade him to work but took initiative when a dear item of his was dropped._

_In fact, Toris hadn't expected Feliks to be that perceptive. The charm might have always been hanging from his wallet out in the open but he assumed that many things would have flown over his lover's head. Now he was contemplating over the possibility of Feliks actually listening when he was telling the tale of his own stories._

" _Thank you then, love." Toris had to chuckle when Feliks became flustered at the pet name. He could be rather shy towards endearing terms. "But your spirits have not been lifted. What seemed to be bothering you?"_

_In a flickering moment, Toris could grasp the hesitation flashing in Feliks's eyes. To his knowledge, his lover hardly complained or divulged in matters that truly bothered him._

" _Nothing. I was just being grumpy because my belly is crying for food." In an instant, Feliks smiled brightly and hopped over the fence to link arms with Toris. "No one dares to make my stomach wait! Not even you, Liet. I'm going to give you thirty minutes to make a huge meal!"_

" _Thirty minutes! There is only one of me, Po!"_

_Unbothered by the complaint, Feliks tilted his head upwards and laughed. "What can I do? My hunger can't be put on hold any longer! Alright, maybe I'll help you out this time."_

_In the end, they took longer than the time Feliks proposed because the blond was creating a mess due to his clumsiness. The meal would have been quicker if Toris were to cook alone but witnessing Feliks's concentrated expression while slicing the potatoes was worth it._

_After a few days, Toris found out that Feliks had been continually depressed because he lost their union ring while he was searching for Toris's charm._

"Sir? Excuse me, sir."

Toris was immediately snapped out of his reverie when the driver's call reached his ears. He must have unintentionally nodded off during the ride. Glancing at the window, he realized that they had already arrived at Feliks's house.

"I'm terribly sorry," Toris apologised quickly and took out the cash to cover the ride. He thanked the driver, exited the vehicle and fetched his luggage from the trunk.

A singular and large Victorian house with exquisite architectural designs came into view. There was a small terrace and a pool leading from the backdoor and a garage to park his car along with a few mountains of junk. The house was three storeys high with a single row of windows installed on the third, which was evidently a storeroom.

The house was perched on a wide grassy terrain, secluded from the central plaza a few kilometres away. It was fitting for Feliks, as Toris recalled he was never fond of living near strangers.

After mulling for another moment, Toris took the initiative to approach the door and knocked.

Claps of footsteps could be heard despite the sound mostly muffled from the walls and Toris could experience trepidation building inside of him. How would he greet? Should he have brought a housewarming present? Despite Alfred's claims, Toris wasn't stupid enough to believe that Feliks would be comfortable to his reallocation. They hadn't been in contact for years and Ivan had went through the  _trouble_  of keeping communications between them to a minimal.

Finally, the noise of footsteps came to a pause and the door swung opened a minute later.

Then, all ability to speak were lost from their tongues.

It was uncertain of exactly how long had they been drinking in the sight of each other's faces but Toris was the one who decided to put it to an end by shifting his gaze.

"Thank you for having me-"  _Po? Sweetheart? Love?_  "—Polska."

Feliks's face seemed to have a thin layer of ice ghosting over his skin and he was then reminded of the similarity between their salutations for each other. Grazing his teeth over his bottom lip briefly, he then shrugged his shoulders and moved away from the entrance.

"No problem, Lietuva. Come on in."

Feliks closed the door after Toris entered and the both of them immediately felt trapped within the four walls. Even so, they didn't allow the discomfort to shine and mustered their willpower to maintain their composure even as they were trying to focus their sight on anywhere but one another. It was easier for Toris, considering that he had the new surroundings to scan over.

The living room was rather spacious despite the elaborate designs on the exterior of the house. There weren't many decorations or rich artefacts to live up to the first impression, which then once again brought Toris back to another fact regarding the owner.

Feliks always preferred to live in a spacious environment. He tended to become stressed easily when there were too many objects within a room so Toris had made sure to allocate furniture to each room that would accommodate to Feliks's preferences. Also, his former lover's clumsiness tended to have him trip over or bump into random furniture when they were too closely packed together.

"Your room is up here," Feliks called out as he gestured for his guest to follow.

There was a nagging question at the back of Toris's mind but Feliks was already almost out of sight when he attempted to bring it up. Even when he aimed to raise the issue as he climbed the stairs, his attention was nabbed by the long hallway spread across each side of the stairs.

"This is it," Feliks gestured to the rows of rooms at the left wing. "You can pick any of these since no one else is living here but me. You might want to leave the one nearest to the stairs alone since Erzsebet often uses it when she stays over."

"Each room has its own bathroom so you can't really get lost while looking for one," he added.

Toris felt tempted to remind Feliks that he was the one often getting lost in his own house while searching for the bathroom at night but felt that the remark was unnecessary.

Feliks turned his head to his right and gestured over his shoulders – towards the right wing.

"The closest room to the stairs is my study room and the one next to it is my room. My room is kind of off limits to anyone so just knock when you need me instead of entering."

He had felt the need to emphasize it because Feliciano had almost scared the life out of him when he burst into his room naked and crying about rotting pasta – or any oddities that occurred in his nightmare. Feliks was generous enough not to kick his childhood friend out of the room but still reminded the Italian that it was quite a traumatic ordeal. Often Feliks didn't care if anyone was naked within his sight but it was the rush of the moment piling onto the invasion of privacy that shocked him.

In the past, Feliks wouldn't have minded if any close peers of his entered his room on a random whim but he had become more closed off towards many during his own recovery process.

Toris wasn't sure if he was disappointed or comforted by Feliks's realization towards personal boundaries. There was a frustrating pinch at the back of his mind at the growing distance between them and witnessing Feliks being so distant and foreign to  _everyone_  was admittedly, worrying him.

While Feliks was often uncaring towards Toris's own privacy and intruded whenever he wanted, it was comforting to know that Feliks loved being in his company. It warmed his heart whenever Feliks's face brightened whenever he entered the room, despite initially sulking over various matters. Feliks enjoyed his company immensely and Toris couldn't help but continue to fall for the man who regarded Toris as a special, irreplaceable lover.

Now, it was all lost.

Shifting on his foot, Feliks then battled over for his next choice of words.

"You can use the backyard whenever you want to or pick any books from the bookshelf downstairs in the living room. As for the car – uh, just let me know whenever you need it."

In response, Toris nodded to express his attentiveness.

"Um, Polska-"

"Erszebet, Feliciano and Slovakia comes by once in a while but I've let them know that you're staying over for some time. It wouldn't stop them from paying a visit but just letting you know what you're going to expect."

"Alright. But Polska-"

"You can talk to them whenever you want to as well. I don't mind, they don't mind. I guess you've already met Erszebet before. She talked about it sometimes and Feliciano too. I mean, I know you're not close with them but maybe you could use more… company?"

"I am very grateful for that but I have to say something-"

"Feliciano has a habit of walking around naked, especially after his nap. Just saving a piece of your soul by warning you beforehand."

Toris inhaled a portion of air and tapped his finger against the side of his hip. He was often tolerant and possessing an abundance of forbearance but during an emergency, one tended to chip away at their patience in order to get their words across.

" _Polska_."

An annoyed look flashed across Feliks's face. " _What_?"

"It seems like something is burning downstairs."

Feliks's eyes widened in realization and gasped sharply. He immediately turned on his heels and rushed downstairs like a Gilbert to Feliciano, Feliciano to pasta, pasta to boil—whatever takes your fancy! In a split second, a loud screech sang from the kitchen.

" _My bacon_!"

Would his stay turn out to be alright? Toris couldn't help but wonder.


	3. When All Was New

After unpacking his luggage and taking a quick shower, Toris retreated to the arm chair next to the window after he was properly dressed. He donned on a plain white shirt, matching it with a pair of trousers and had a towel hanging around the back of his neck. His hair was still damp with several strands sticking to each side of his cheek, seemingly unbothered by it.

Looking outside through the window, his mind instantly fell into a state of tranquility at the sight of vast, grassy terrains stretching towards the hills. Spring could never more be appreciated, he silently swore, as a flash of the wintry town almost heightened his breathing. How magical it was that with a simple exposure to the sunny fields would warp his harsh past into only a distant memory. He knew better, of course, that the luxury was no more than temporary.

Yet it was the fact that this was Feliks's house that didn't grant him complete relaxation. Perhaps it was Vilnius thumping in trepidation behind his chest and it reminded him of how his heart was ripped from his body, mercilessly ripped by no other than his current landlord.

Grunting, he fetched a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and fixed it between his lips before lighting it. Smoking had become a substandard habit as of late but there was little to worry as their body wouldn't succumb to the consequences that humans tended to suffer from the addiction. During his early period of recovery, two packs of cigarette would be used up in a day.

_Everything had changed too fast._

Toris silently lamented as his brows drew forward and adam apple rolling over a wave. His fingers spun around the lower stick, gently prying it from his mouth when an expanse of smoky air was exhaled.

Over time, his rage over Feliks's actions had diminished into a small ponder of how events that had happened shouldn't have. Regrettably, Feliks wasn't the only one who committed crimes and no one could truly appraise the sufferings inflicted on both of them, their nations and people.

His grip on his cigarette slackened and he cursed at his own brooding.

"Cut it out, Lietuva," he hissed. "You aren't getting anywhere with this."

Toris had to get himself back on his own foot and return to functioning his economy as per normal. While he still handled the paperwork and administrative matters, it was inconvenient to work away from home. It was Ivan's presence that was largely influencing his need to make a temporary move because the nation's madness had broken him beyond belief. Toris was undoubtedly aggrieved by the treatment and was all relieved to have moved out, even if his kind heart flickered in pity for the large nation at times.

Casting his cigarette into the ash tray, Toris stood up from his seat and ambled downstairs to make himself useful.

* * *

Arriving at the kitchen, he caught a glimpse of Feliks having a finger in his mouth and eyes narrowed as though he was glaring at the pan with the full spectrum of his detestation. Surely the pan must have sought ways to have its revenge after Feliks unceremoniously threw it down onto the floor in a rush to remove it from heat. The sight of Feliks still fumbling with the chores sparked amusement and the inclination to put him out of his misery.

"Do you need any help?" Toris offered.

Feliks's posture visibly stiffened and his attention was abruptly thieved by his guest's voice. His lips drew back while his stare glued to Toris's face, as though contemplating on the goodwill.

However, pride instantly brimmed and Feliks quickly looked away, holding up his arm to wave his hand in dismissal. Even if his ego wasn't a problem, Feliks didn't want to deal with more awkwardness than necessary.

"No, I'm fine. I got this. Just wait at the dining table or something."

Toris actually seemed doubtful at the claim.

"Are you su-"

" _Yes, I'm sure_. No one in the world could mess up cooking an egg."

"And the burnt bacon of yours?"

"It was preoccupied with being a good host," Feliks defended. "You get to know all the ropes at the expense of a few tiny bacon. Figures I'd be paying myself the tip."

"Do hosts demand tip for ensuring their guests behave properly in their home?"

Feliks shrugged and flipped the egg. "You sure are lucky as hell that I don't. Do I seem that greedy to charge indiscriminately?"

"I recall Prūsija complaining that you charged him at a 200% interest when he tried to borrow money."

Throwing a smirk at Toris, Feliks retorted, " _And you wouldn't_?"

"Oops. Point taken."

It truly felt odd to be on speaking terms, even if unanticipated.

They hadn't spoken ever since unless it was absolutely necessary. Even so, Ivan didn't bestow the chance for them to make amends as they were forced to relinquish all communications during his reign. For once, Toris was grateful even if he felt a tint of guilt for that thought.

"So," Toris drawled out carefully. "Are you sure you will be alright on your own?"

Groaning theatrically, Feliks slumped his shoulders and tilted his head in a languid fashion as though outright stating that he was tired of the repetition. "Yes, yes. Nothing will happen to your breakfast. Seriously, it's not like I had never cooked. I even did while we were living together."

"That was  _different_. I was there," Toris pointed out, seemingly desperate to claim his credit.

"Just because I didn't have four arms in the kitchen doesn't mean that I can't whip up a simple meal to your liking,  _oh sir Lietuva_."

"Really? Is this where we are headed,  _your majesty_?" he retorted, wearing a wry smile.

Feliks clapped his hands together with an upturn face plastered. "Now that we have our titles out of the way. Make your butt comfy on the chair."

After leaving a playful salute, Toris exited the kitchen and situated on a seat as instructed.

There he paused, when the conversation from mere seconds ago rewound in his mind. Weren't they on the brink of awkwardness an hour ago? How did their short sentences evolve into an engaging, playful banter on their second speaking terms? Toris merely went along with the flow, and so did Feliks.

A few seconds after, Feliks emerged from the kitchen with two plates of eggs, bacon and toasts in each. Those were fairly simple meal but Toris was easily satisified. After placing them on the table, Feliks took his place opposite of Toris and placed the cutlery on the table.

Toris picked up his knife and fork to begin digging into his food. "So, how have you been doing?" he asked, attempting to manage a small talk.

"Not bad," Feliks responded while shrugging his shoulders lightly. "How about you?" It was a stupid question but he dispatched it either way.

"Well. I guess." He glanced at the doorway, contemplating over his response. What was he saying? He wouldn't be here for rehabilitation if he was  _well._

Fortunately, Feliks didn't press the issue.

Instead, their conversation drifted into another pause and Toris had to distract himself by scanning the furniture in the house. His attention was caught by miniature models of planes kept securely inside glass cabinets. Every detail was prominent to the eye; their position, direction the tip faced, their classification on each level according to their labels, and each with its own model name displayed in plain sight.

"Are you into planes?" Toris found himself asking.

Instantly, Feliks had a beaming face with strong color and sheen. His throat suddenly felt too quenched, so much that he simply must speak to dry it.

" _Totally_! That one at the bottom row had the fighter planes of PZL P.11 and PZL P.7, then light bombers of PZL.23 Karaś, PZL.43 and the medium bomber PZL.37. We used them in 1939. I was in the PZL. P.11, by the way. It's not fast but I can do lots of tricks with it and see clearer.

See the ones at the two steps above? Those were the ones used in Britain and France. They had so much more advanced planes that I totally spent the entire time inside each one before we fought against Germany while I was there. I even made them race with me which I totally won, of course."

"Wait, you were in Britain and France at that time?"

"Um duh. I had to take my country back from Deutschland and I can't do it while twiddling my thumbs on the couch. My comrades and I escaped and made a  _loooong_ journey to France and Britain so that we can join them in kicking ass. The Squadron 303 and I kicked loads of ass, by the way. We destroyed 126 of that bastard's planes."

Toris furrowed his brows, not recalling such news. He had been there with Ivan during the parade and celebrations after the Battle of Britain came to a conclusion. There were certainly talks of  _Polish fighters_  among the Britains but Toris only had a handful of knowledge regarding their language. Information was extremely limited while living in Russia.

"You weren't at the celebration."

"We weren't allowed to attend because the biggest buttface and his leaders don't like us. You can totally ask Arthur if you want. I gave him a  _hard_  time." Feliks grinned at the memory while shoving a piece of bacon into his mouth. Although, he did felt a little guilty afterwards because Arthur had truly wanted to include his men in the parade.

"Oh." Toris honestly did not know what to say. "I'm sorry."

"For?" Feliks retorted while frowning before dismissing it with a wave. "I got over it. Arthur and Francis comes by every year to celebrate with me anyway. Besides, they allowed me to get my revenge. I felt so much freer before I even was while flying."

"I see." Toris slowly chewed on his toast.

It was still a surprise to witness how much Feliks had grown. In the past, it was usually Toris's presence that allowed Feliks to gain the upper hand. He had a tactical mind and powerful control over the battlefield while Feliks threw in some of his ideas from time to time. He could still recall how he employed the sword like it was an extension of his arm. Feliks, on the other hand, wasn't as adept seeing how often he skipped on practice. Yet, he was argumentatively a fast learner.

Their conversation grew into another silence as they finished the last bits of breakfast on their plates. It wasn't until long when they found something new to bicker.

"I'll wash the plates," Toris announced as he stood up from his seat.

"Woah, woah!" Feliks immediately sprung up from his with his hand outstretched as though attempting to stop him. "Just keep the plates lying there. I can totally handle these."

Toris furrowed his brows in confusion. "Why? I can clearly clean my own plates and yours. You made dinner so I clean up. That is fair."

"But you're a guest here. Alfred specifically told me to not let you strain yourself."

Immediately, Toris's pride was stung with pique. Listening to Feliks's story and witnessing how his former partner had grown made him feel so…  _incapable_  all of a sudden. Even while suffering under the torment in Russia, he had been tirelessly taking care of the younger Baltic States. Toris wasn't weak, he didn't need to be taken care of – not in such a way that it seemed as though he was being pitied.

"I'm fine,  _Polska_. It's just washing the dishes."

"You still shouldn't be doing chores-"

Fire danced in his eyes and his grip on the plates became tighter. "I'm not weak," Toris snapped before his own eyes widened at the barb in his voice. His rapidly pulsing vein calmed when he noted how Feliks had recoiled from the anger punctuated tone. Toris's eyes grew softer, notably more delicate in rue. "I'm sorry for that but please just let me do this. I'm grateful that you made this for me."

 _Even when you never would have been able to in the past_.

Feliks, on the other hand, still had his upper body leaned slightly backwards in a state of bewilderment. He hadn't intended on implying that Toris was weak. He was simply trying to prevent accidents. From how Alfred had described, Toris had the roughest nights and bleakest mornings. Feliks simply wanted him to relax. Why wouldn't he? The house was offered to Toris for that very purpose. The agreement wasn't simply a waste of time.

The obstinacy in him had to be quelled and Toris's bite had indeed aggravated it. His eyes notably tightened and his fingers curled into loose fists. Exhaling a deep sigh to release the pent up frustration, he allowed his muscles to slacken before he spoke.

"Alright. You handle the plates then," Feliks grumbled in a stiff tone.

"Thank you."

Without uttering another word, Toris turned his back to Feliks and strolled back into the kitchen.

Listening to the tap running, Feliks leaned his back against the wall and beside the glass cabinet of his prized model planes which served as the elation in their conversation. Their behavior towards each other changed rapidly like rich autumn into chilly winter in a matter of minutes. It was an oddity itself of how easily they could let go of their rigidity and plunge into their distant, beautiful past. It was like recklessly plunging the aircraft onto another, expecting death but only embraced by the sweet aftermath of victory and relief.

They were both airplanes that flew past each other far too many times.

* * *

Notes: The planes mentioned ( fighter planes; PZL P.11 and PZL P.7, light bombers; PZL.23 Karaś, PZL.43 and medium bomber; PZL.37 ) were aircrafts used during the September campaign. They were incredibly outdated as compared to Germany's technologically advanced fleet of Blitzkrieg. The major contributor were the PZL P. 11 pilots, which had destroyed more than 170 German plates despite its obsolescence.

After the September Campaign ended, most of the Polish armies escaped into their neighbouring countries whereby they will be aided in being transported to France and England to continue the fight. The operation had to be very carefully carried out with included the creation of fake identification documents whereby details were handled with extreme care. After which, the Polish military men joined the two nations. After France surrendered, they moved on to Britain to continue the battle.

During the Battle of Britain, there were 145 Polish fighter pilots recruited into the Royal Air Force, becoming the largest non-british contribution. The No. 303 "Kościuszko" Polish Fighter Squadron, named after the Polish Kosciuszko Squadron which fought in the Polish-Soviet war, became the most efficient squadron with the destruction of 126 German planes during the Battle of Britain within six weeks.

The parade and celebration, however, didn't include the Polish fighters due to Britain not wanting to offend Joseph Stain ( as Polish and Soviet ties were extremely rough ). The public, however, largely recognized the abilities of the Polish fighters and selflessly threw praises.

Source: A Question of Honor, the Kosciuszko Squadron "Forgotten Heroes of World War II" by Lynne Olson and Stanely Cloud.


	4. As the pebble tumbles

A few days after Toris's move in, their conversation had slightly improved even if the stench of awkwardness still lingered. While there were many problems that remained unresolved, neither of them had taken any initiative to create new ones. At times, Feliks had unknowingly prodded Toris's sensitivity but he either brushed it off to conclude the concern or mustering his will not to let his frustrations consume him whole.

It was typically unlikely for Toris to be easily provoked but the recent pressure and haunting memories from living under Ivan's house had placed him on an edge. He felt remorseful for treating Feliks harshly at times and he knew Feliks wasn't as comfortable about it as his claims.

"I'm sorry!" Toris winced when the brittle plates ended up in pieces on the ground.

Shrugging his shoulders, Feliks hunched over to scoop them up with a single dustpan. "It's just a plate. It's nothing to bellyache about."

"H-Hey, shouldn't you use a broom? There might be little fragments left on the ground." Toris had a hunch that Feliks didn't consider that possibility at all.

"We'll worry about that later," Feliks dismissed quickly, as though trying to divert Toris's attention away from his blunder and gestured upstairs instead. "How about you head to the bathroom to clean up? I put my first aid kit there. Your finger is bleeding."

Glancing at his finger tinted with red, Toris grimaced and had to resist the urge to yelp. The color had been a close companion to the endless white back in Russia.

"I think I shall do that. Can you handle the broken pieces on your own?"

" _Duh_. It's not like I have to travel to the beyond in order to get rid of them."

 _Right_ , Toris thought to himself as he recalled how independent Feliks became. His former partner had also become more generous, being less demanding of his whims and tended to take initiative to help instead. The change was rather queer but he didn't find himself complaining as he expected. Yet, he couldn't help but experience an incomprehensible, longing desire for Feliks to ask for something;  _anything_  that could make him feel needed.

Sparing another look in Feliks's direction, Toris then trudged towards the bathroom upstairs.

* * *

"This isn't as bad as it looks," Toris mumbled to himself as he let the water drench his finger and wash away the blood seeping from the cut.

He reached towards the cabinet above the mirror and opened it, retrieving the first aid kit as described. However, his fingers had gotten clumsy and lost grip of the box in mid-air, causing the object to tumble over and crash against the floor. Once again, Toris internally berated himself for his carelessness. Just how many things would he have to break today?

Apparently, the first aid kit had been old and the latch was broken. Hence when it hit the ground, the impact caused the top to wrench open and the contents spilled onto the ground.

The puddle of mixed medication expelled a potent smell that effused throughout the room. In an instant, Toris saw spots in his vision after his nose had taken two whiffs and he had to clench the rim of the sink hard to keep himself from falling. Futile it was when his most of his consciousness began to lose grasp and threw him into a fragment of the past.

" _How? How could you do this to him?"_

_Toris cried, his face twisting and stiffness surrounded his skin. His irises swirled wildly like a turbulent whirlpool and nerves trembling at the small boy that lay in his arms, whose life had been drawn by the gun of the Russian officer. There was no mistaking it; that boy was one of his people!_

" _He refused to speak Russian and was interfering with our patrol," the guard responded in Russian and, to Toris's horror, was full of coldness and arrogance._

_Slamming his teeth against each other, Toris then swung his arm towards the guard who caught it with ease. "He was just trying to ask for his parents?! Where did you hide his parents?!"_

" _It doesn't matter now, does it?" was the response while Toris's arm was still caught in a vice grip no matter how much he struggled. "There will be no one to receive the answer."_

_In Lithuanian, this time, Toris cursed the guard with every blood that dared flowed through his veins._

_The Russian officer would have nothing of it and a baton was fetched from his belt within a matter of seconds. With a tight grip, the surface of the weapon rammed against the side of Toris's head, causing the weakened man to be flung into the wall._

_It was his fourth escape from Ivan's house this time and he hadn't properly nourished himself before his departure as dwindling was perilous to his plans._

" _You will end up like that boy."_

_The click of the gun fluttered into his ear._

" _Wait." A voice, eerie and calm, halted the officer's movements._

_He knew. Toris knew that voice!_

" _This little stray belongs to me."_

_Toris's face was contoured with a blanket of frigidity, teeth grinding against each other weakly while trying not to look at his 'savour' but instead focusing his sight on the boy. Ignoring the trail of blood trickling down the side of his cheek, Toris lamented gravely of how his people were being treated with utter ruthlessness. None of these – things were human!_

_Huge fingers curled in his hair, tugging him away from the comfort of the cold ground and hoisted his body until he was made to stand; only stand. By now, tears were already mixing with dribbling blood. It was not out of fear but despair over his pitiful people, for this detestable place that boasted superiority and fake equality._

_Afterwards, Toris was roughly shoved into a car whereby he would be driven towards Ivan's house._

_Crack!_

_Each time the rough leather smacked against his skin provoked a loud, sharp noise that resounded across the room. There, Toris's wrists were bounded together by a thick rope and were hosting colours of bright red after grinding his skin against the bindings without rest._

_Another cry erupted past his bloodied lips as his entire body staggered when the whip landed on his back again. He could feel the impact in his bones._

_Finally, the torment would cease when Ivan allowed the whip to rest by his side and leaving Toris panting with his knees nudging the ground. His back rose and fell along with his hastened breathing. Beads of sweat drenched his hair and more were trickling down all over his skin, gathering into a puddle on the ground around him. The room absolutely reeked of blood._

" _I hope this has helped you to understand your situation, yes?"_

_Ivan's only reply was another round of laboured breathing._

" _I expect an answer whenever I gave you a question."_

" _Gah!"_

_His head wrenched back when his hair was submerged in an iron grip, mercilessly forcing his broken gaze to meet the steely ones of his captor. Parched, bloodied lips were parted. For emphasis, Ivan jerked Toris's head backwards in a stronger tug to ensure his shattered mind momentarily fixed itself for his sake._

" _How… could you do this?"_

_Ivan almost stumbled back when he discerned the look in Toris's eyes but otherwise maintained his air of superiority. Pity. Was it pity towards him?_

_His teeth grounded against his bottom lips as remembrance floated through the glass of his mind. That expression fit the eyes of a brighter green filled with audacity but the pity swirling within the arrogance was one of mocking gesture; very unlike the sincerity in this pair of darker green._

" _I…"_

" _What made you do this?"_

_It took a moment for the nation to realize the sympathy was not directed at him but the Lithuanians instead. Toris's people. His precious people._

" _Do not blame the mistakes of your people onto me!"_

_Ivan broke free of his paralysis with an angry, mighty roar that was soon followed by a kick onto Toris's bruised and battered back. The nerve of him! To think that Ivan had taken the trouble to adopt this child into a safer home. He was being riddled by poverty and wars, was he not? If he were to live under Ivan then all of these woes would be handled by him instead._

_Toris had nothing to complain! Nothing._

" _The ungratefulness in your voice just informed me that you do not comprehend the least!"_

_The once bright and cheerful eyes of Toris gradually turned dull when his voice could not reach Ivan, just as how his peoples could not be heard by Russia. By the time Ivan had inflicted the last, satisfying strike onto his abused back, Toris had long fled the cruelty and into a long slumber._

* * *

The brightness of the bathroom enticed his eyelids to flutter open. Toris blinked, and blinked away the blurry spots that were hindering his vision. After wards, he sat up and realized that he had collapsed onto the ground when the overpowering smell of the medicine disabled his senses.

"Ow…"

His hand rested upon his forehead to rub the soreness away. He grasped his shirt and realized that a large area was drenched in the medicine. Toris winced in disgust. Hurriedly, he unbuttoned his shirt and dumped the top onto the ground.

"Hey, I am back from dumping the broken parts outside. Do you need any help?"

Before Toris could respond, the bathroom door was swung wide open and it created a pause in their movements. Dark green eyes met brighter ones but there was not where the latter was focused on.

"Lietuva…"

"Don't!" Toris suddenly barked out, feeling even smaller than ever. "Don't say anything.  _Don't_."

Feliks flinched when the sharp tone pierced his ears like knives. Truth to be told, he didn't acknowledge himself to be in a position to inquire. What little, brittle bits left of their relationship did not leave any space for concerns. Nevertheless, they were once lovers, who cared for each other more than heaven and Earth itself.

"Ivan?" It was a murmur that departed without permission.

Toris staggered into a pause, his eyes were wide, throat parched and fingers curling at the name. His mind was haunted by a soft yet serrated noise. A vision flashed but it was considerably less lucid than his previous remembrance that violently surfaced in response to the smell of medicine.

" _Don't_ say his name!" Toris demanded sharply, clearly not within his rational thinking after being left with frangible pieces of himself. "You don't know anything!"

" _What_  did you say?"

Feliks countered as his own perpetual strength gradually dulled in face of growing pique. Uncontrollably as may Toris's departure of accusation be, Feliks was least compassionate to such common misconception. With his efforts extensively undermined by news, wounds concealed by disregard and suffering sank into obscurity, he was livid for his remaining pride.

"I don't know anything? I don't know anything, you say? How dare you, Lietuva?" His hand flattened onto his chest, emphasizing his position in the accusation. "You can say that I don't know anything about you. Hell, I might not even. But don't say that I don't know any single thing!"

"Can't I?" Toris snapped back, eyes flashing in rage at the onslaught of words. "You clearly don't understand anything when you stormed in and demanded Vilnius!"

Toris clutched the piece of material protecting his body, above the spot where Vilnius wept under layers. It was still trembling; the poor child of his, his heart.

"Again? We are doing that whole shit again? My boss had made it clear that we do not want Vilnius! What do you even want?"

"Do you think that it would simply erase what you and your people did to me?!" Toris had now added another burden to his throat. "You were clearly selfish. You thought you were right, you thought Vilnius was yours. When you took Vilnius, you couldn't feel it within you, could you? You couldn't! It was still mine even if you stole it from me!"

Feliks's lips pinched together to restrain his bubbling anger even if it took a toll on him. His resignation from a long time ago had him unable to rebuff Toris's rage. Yet he would have continued to accept the rampage as it so deserved to fall upon his person – if not for the fact that Toris's righteous stand had turned into a lie during the 1940s.

Despite that, Feliks couldn't bring himself to scream his voice hoarse just to protect his pride. Perhaps deep inside, he had still clung onto their relationship that now only existed in a faraway dream; a relationship that only rung clear when he placed a loose fist upon his chest. Even if he were to be the only one left to see that those feelings still existed  _somewhere_.

Was this the  _price_?

"I know," Feliks murmured as he turned around to face the door. His eyes be watery but no tears managed to fall. "I know. I couldn't feel Vilnius in me at that time."

Nothing hurt more than feeling and understanding that.

"Neither can I feel you."

Refusing to spare another word, Feliks quickly exited the bathroom and out of his house. He didn't know where he was going – or ran but wherever his legs were to carry him, it would be where he would have to personally attend to his conflicting woes.

Perhaps if they hadn't met, hadn't grown close, neither of them had to be ensnared in this painfully, crumbling world. Or was Feliks the only one still standing upon the ground plagued with cracks? Meanwhile, Toris might very well had moved on.

The mere realization that this seemed how things were truly meant to be,

-finally had tears descended and freed from its weakening captor.


	5. Survival attracts changes

Two days passed and Toris hadn't caught sight of Feliks in the house. There was no telling whether he had left home early and returned late or simply was never at home. He could hardly believe it to be the former as Toris considered himself a light sleeper after sleeping in the basement of Ivan's home for far too many nights. The creaks above him often startled him awake even in amid his sleep.

Thoughtfully, he stepped into the kitchen to make himself a simple breakfast of cereal and remembering to place some money on the counter as an exchange for the food. Although Feliks had established that repayment wasn't needed, Toris just wasn't above simply taking.

As he chewed on his breakfast, his mind wandered to his landlord again. Feliks's absence had him interfering with Toris's daydreaming most of the time now. Of course, he was living in Feliks's house so it was normal to dwell upon his lack of presence, was it not?

Nevertheless, he washed the bowl after he finished eating and headed up to his bedroom to put a stop to his contemplation once and for all. Outside Feliks's bedroom, he knocked on the door and frowned when there was no reply. Was Feliks truly not at home? His fingers spun around the knob and was about to twist it until he halted abruptly at a reminder.

(" _My room is kind of off limits to anyone so just knock when you need me instead of entering."_ )

What shall he do? No one answered when he knocked. What if the room was truly empty? What if Feliks was simply sleeping with his head hanging from the edge of the bed again? What if Feliks hated the sunlight and draped the blanket over his head entirely while half asleep without knowing that he would be choking at the lack of air?

 _("Geez, thanks for the lack of faith.")_  – Alright, he was certain that came out of nowhere.

Toris sweated. The more he stood outside without an answer, the more he wanted to simply enter so that he could assure himself that Feliks was safe. They had a fight two days before, hadn't they? Toris couldn't understand either but his worries for Feliks just didn't allow him to be in peace. A habit, perhaps, and if only Feliks was more cautious than tripping over an obviously placed stack of hay, he would not have instinctively worry in the first place.

 _I'll apologise later. First, I'll have to make sure that Polska isn't choking himself!_  He mentally promised while the prospect of Feliks not at home in the first place was thrown out of the window and forgotten.

"Polska—!"

Toris paused when he was met with a completely empty room.

_So he wasn't here after all…_

Was Feliks purposely avoiding him because of his words? Nonetheless, Toris didn't feel that he was speaking impudently. He wasn't lying about his feelings. A nagging thought pricked at the back of his head, berating him for being insensitive about the timing and location. There was he again, often taking the blame on himself when matters went wrong.

Just when he was about to leave the room, the colorful papers on the wall caught his attention. Or rather, it was the contents written on the tiny notes that seemed all too familiar and homely for him to ignore.

_[Labas.]_

_[Labas rytas.]_

_[Laba diena.]_

_[Labas vakaras]_

_[Kaip sekasi.]_

_[Atsiprašau]_

They were all in Lithuanian.

Was Feliks trying to learn his language? The realization softened his heart. Feliks had always been adamant about the both of them using Polish in the past and refused to speak his. Feliks hadn't been interested in his culture either. Was Feliks truly remorseful over their fallout and trying to fix things up?

Looking over the other colored notes, it seemed like the pink ones were written in longer Lithuanian sentences. His vocabulary had expanded so much. Although…

_The case endings are all wrong! No, wait. One of them seemed correct…_

_[Man reikia interneto]_

Ah… Toris had a feeling that Feliks  _needed_  this phrase correct.

Even if Feliks fumbled with his sentences, Toris would have loved to hear him speak Lithuanian. He would even offer to teach him but perhaps Feliks's pride wouldn't allow it. He juggled over the possibilities of whether this was the reason why no one was allowed in his room. He would hate the idea of Feliks becoming isolated.

"Maybe he had really changed," Toris mumbled to himself as he closed his eyes. "And maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. I might have been overreacting during our casual conversations together."

Smiling ruefully to himself, Toris let his fingers thread into his hair as his head turned towards the desk. There was a picture of them together, framed and properly placed a small distance away from the window to prevent it from escaping from sight even in the dark. Walking towards it, Toris wiped the corner of the frame with his thumb.

_Po… Even if I may have hated you in the past, it wouldn't change the fact that we were once very close friends. Our personalities didn't match but it just seemed impossible to imagine anyone else in this picture with me. How strange…_

_Hmm? A letter for me?_

Picking up the paper that had his name, he couldn't stop himself from reading through the contents.

 ~~_Liet_ ~~ _Lietuva._

_I know it might be too late to say this but I'm sorry for all the things that happened between us and my actions. I didn't realize that I was being selfish and… maybe I just didn't want to realize it. When I finally do, I couldn't stop thinking back at all the times that you've tolerated me. While I was enjoying myself too much, I didn't see how much you must've been bottling up. I thought that we were strong lovers who only wanted to merge together again and when you refused the proposal for the commonwealth, I thought that you might have let our bonds go. Even if you did, it would've been understandable._

_I wanted to change. I don't want to be the old me who only knew how to think for himself. Even if I didn't change for you, our moments were the things that made me realize that I had to change. Remember my promise? I would definitely be less selfish. So if I can finally manage to be that, I want to face you again. I don't want to run away. At the very least, I would've gotten an answer of where we will be going._

_Even if you still wanted us to remain distant, I will still accept that. Because, it's the right and selfless thing to do, isn't it?_

_Liet… Thank you. And I'm sorry._

"Po…"

Toris murmured as he scanned the contents of the letter once more. The top portion had already been stained by his uncontrollable tears. His fingers were trembling and grasping onto the paper tightly, refusing to let it go no matter what.

Could Toris ever forgive him? Could Feliks ever forgive him? What was the right thing to do? What was what they  _wanted_  to do?

He might have been determined not to talk to Feliks again after the severing of their diplomatic ties but once again, he found himself having to make a choice again. Changing. Feliks had changed and that was not only it, he himself had also change. Would it mean that their relations could also change?

A spark inside, memories of the past, both pulled him towards two opposite directions. Feliks's actions had hurt him more than anything but wasn't it because that Feliks was so important that it impacted him so much? He was hurt and it was only normal for him to be spiteful. What if that wasn't the only rational choice in the long run? He had done so many forgiving, received so many forgiving.

"Po, I forgive you," he murmured and he loved how sincere it finally sounded.

The corner of his lips gently tugged upwards and he placed the letter back on the desk. Then, his movements paused when he realized the pen had not stopped.

"Wait… there is more…?"

_P.S Liet's face is totally bland!_

"That idiot!" Toris swiped the letter off the table and shouted at it. "What's the use of saying that in such an emotional letter? Not only that, the sentence was so big that it took up more than half of the paper! Was my face bland? Was it always that bland? Were you just attracted to my bland face from the very beginning?"

Feeling exhausted, Toris set the letter back down and massaged his forehead. He had almost forgotten how easily Feliks could get such a reaction from him. Every time, he would double over and laugh at his expression. He was like a child, a toddler even, who could be easily entertained by the faces that people made.

_But he seemed truly happy during those times. Oh well…_

Toris emitted a sigh instead and shook his head in his own amusement. For once, he was glad that some things still stayed the way they were. Even if Feliks had always irritated him, it didn't feel as though he did it on purpose. Feliks had never intended to hurt him while they were together back in the middle ages. He wasn't fully set on helping him but Toris just couldn't forget the bright, genuine smiles that Feliks often wore around him. Knowing that made Toris felt a twinge of pride for himself that he was able to bring out such joy from someone without working to death.

After he exited the room and shut the door, a piece of note fluttered in the air and landed on the floor. Curiously, Toris picked it up and read.

[ _I will jump into the river._ ]

_What ?!_

* * *

Toris dashed across the different rivers situated in Poland and cried out for his name. What rash thinking! No matter how depressed Feliks was, he couldn't have possibly be thinking of… No, Toris dared not to think of the possibility. Still, Feliks had always been sensitive and delicate. He couldn't have been thinking recklessly again after being wounded by Toris's words.

_Po. Please be safe._

With the prayer held close to his heart, Toris continued to relentlessly search through the city. When he found no trace, he dived into the forests and searched.

Where was he? Where?

Beads of sweat were rolling down his face as each search became futile to further. His heart pounded against his ribcage wildly and it was only due to his immense stamina that kept him from stopping. He had to find Feliks no matter what.

Coming to a lake, Toris stood at the edge and looked.

" _Polska_!"

At that very same moment, Feliks popped out from the body of the water and yodeled. "Yodel-Ay-Ee-Oooo!" Then he paused and placed a finger on his chin. "That doesn't sound quite right. I'm certain that the video I watched had a much longer stretch at the end. Alright, one more time!"

" _Polska_!" Toris shouted, took off his coat and waddled into the river, causing Feliks to turn to him in surprise. "What the heck are you doing all the way here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Feliks narrowed his eyes at him. "I'm having a yodeling competition with Prussia."

"How is that even obvious?! Why were you having this competition with Prussia? Why the lake? Why yodeling? Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

Feliks folded his arms across his chest and his lips turned downwards, tilting his chin up to seem proud. "I'm not as cowardly as to run away from a challenge. If Prussia wants a yodel battle, it's a yodel battle he gets! Along with his loss stamped on his butt."

"That was not the point! You said that you were going to jump into a river! I thought that you were trying to do something rash!"

"I  _was_. I wanted to jump into the river to cool my head off after getting drunk two days ago. After that when I returned home, Prussia posted a video of his yodeling on the net so I was like, 'ha! I can do so much better' and he said, 'you're on!'"

"So it wasn't Prussia who started it, it was you!"

"Details, details. Leave it for la—Wah!" Feliks yelped when Toris suddenly lifted him out from the water. "What are you doing to me, you pervert?"

Toris's eyes widened at the accusation and he opened his mouth quickly to defend his pride. "Pervert? How am I a pervert when all I am trying to do is to bring you ho-Oh my god, why are you not wearing any clothes?!"

"Do you see anyone bathing with their clothes on?"

"But you're not bathing!"

"Small differences. Just because I am not touching my body-"

"Don't make it sound so wrong! Don't say something like that in public!" Toris exclaimed as he swore his ears were beginning to become hot. "Anyway, I'm going to bring you back home so that you will have a proper bath."

" _Lietuva_! You cannot be seriously telling me to lose to Prussia!"

"I'm not. I'm doing it," Toris stated firmly as he began to waddle out of the lake with a struggling Feliks in his arms. He had forgotten how troublesome it was to take care of this one. "You can continue it after you bathe. You have been away for  _two days_."

"Big deal! Cavemen can go without bathing for weeks!"

"Well, you are not a caveman."

Setting Feliks down, Toris immediately picked up his coat and draped it over him. He frowned as he realized how thin Feliks actually was. His hand was near resembling a pole. He had been wearing only long sleeved clothes that Toris hadn't noticed the detail.

"Checking my body out?" Toris looked up and saw the mischievous grin that settled on Feliks's lips, only to be covered seconds later by a suggestive gesture of placing his fingers on them.

In response, Toris sighed. "Just wondering."

He shook his head to dismiss the problem for a better time. His fingers worked around the buttons and only let go when they were finally in place. Finally, he straightened his back and glanced down at Feliks who was looking up with his wide, childlike eyes.

Subconsciously, Toris began to note Feliks's features that he had fallen for in the past. His skin was light colored, eyes with an attractive green color but now had become considerably dull and even the shape of his face had narrowed. However for some reason, Feliks didn't look as lonely as he did when Toris was observing him from afar back in the house.

"So you were checking me out." Feliks wagged a finger.

This time, Toris rolled his eyes and gently grasped his wrist. "I was just wondering," he repeated.

Tugging on it lightly, Toris began to lead Feliks through the forest.

Feliks lifted his other arm, which even his hand covered by the long sleeve, to his chest level and stared at it. The coat was too big on his body but it still felt warm. It felt as though Toris had been wearing it for a long time before he found him. He brought the sleeve near his nose and inhaled the soothing scent while a small color of red tinted his cheeks.

Unable to resist, he looked up at Toris – and boy, did he have to crane his neck – and noted the gentle expression on his face that differed from the one he wore during their fight. A twang of pain rustled in his chest at the reminder but Toris's attention on him quickly chased it away.

"Hm? What is it?"

Looking back ahead and closing his eyes afterwards, Feliks shook his head and smiled.

"Just wondering."

* * *

Sorry for the long wait. Admittedly, I think the next update would take some time. While I already have the outline laid out, I still have school to commit to. Thank you so much everyone for the favourite, follows and reviews. Thank you for continuing to read this fic!

_Labas. - Hello_

_Labas rytas. - Good morning_

_Laba diena. - Good afternoon_

_Labas vakaras - Good night_

_Kaip sekasi. - How are you_

_Atsiprašau - Sorry_

_Man reikia interneto - I need internet_


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